Uniting
by Super V
Summary: A sequel to "Unity." The start of the Voting Education Tour brings Peeta, Katniss, Madge, and Gale into the thick of political and emotional turmoil, as they try to ready Panem for the upcoming election.
1. Mentor, Again

**CHAPTER 1: Mentor, Again**

Darkness and cold were Haymitch's only companions in the wee hours of the morning. Sleep had evaded him, as it often had since he quit drinking. Nightmares, like those he knew Katniss and Peeta had the bravery to face free of any medicine save each other's arms, had returned to him.

Strange, he had been blocking out the faces of his family and friends lost to him after his Victory in the Hunger Games that he had finally truly forgotten them. It seemed to him that they were someone else's family, whom he had met in passing, not his own flesh and blood.

No, his new family's faces wouldn't be drowned out, no matter how many bottles of liquor he forced them to the bottom of. They were too damned stubborn. Katniss and Peeta, for whom he had been responsible for years now, their faces, would not leave him alone.

In his nightmares, they were back in the Games, back in the Arena, and like all of the Tributes from 12 before them, he was helpless to stop their slaughter. Of course, he knew that this wasn't the case, that they were his neighbors, alive, and as well as their experiences would allow.

It didn't matter. This knowledge brought him no comfort. He had 23 years of Hunger Games to play out in his dreams, watching Katniss and Peeta die in the ways that he had been unable to save 46 before them from doing.

So this morning, darkness was a preferable companion to such images.

He pulled his threadbare blanket up tighter to his shoulders and let out a breath. It hung in the air, a frozen exhale of his life, gone forever. He wondered, with a smile, how many puffs he had left in him.

Why was it so damned cold anyway?

He was in an armchair near his wood burning stove, no reason for the place to be so damned frigid unless... He set his bare feet on the icy floor, and winced. All his joints protested, creaking and complaining for him to settle back into the soft chair as he got to his feet.

Upon opening the door on his stove, he could see that his fire, which had roared the night before was a dying mess of glowing embers. "Hmph," he laughed to no one. Just like him. Slowly dying embers.

He shuffled his way into the kitchen, holding his blanket around him like a shawl. He didn't need the light to navigate his kitchen, he had done it so many times stumbling drunk that darkness provided no challenge at all.

He felt around in his cupboards for the tin of coffee and banged through his sink for the kettle, which, after a shake, revealed itself to be empty. He filled it.

He returned to his wood burning stove, wanting to prepare his coffee before the embers died out for good. He found himself reminiscing with a chuckle the day of the Victory Tour, when Katniss and Peeta had come to him, dragging him awake from his drunken slumber, and then feeding and caffeinating him.

The nostalgia made him ache as he settled into his familiar spot at his kitchen table. Today was the start of the Voting Education Tour and despite himself, he had hoped that they would come say goodbye. He wasn't too sure that he would be around when they got back.

This was better though, he told himself. A goodbye would feel too final anyway. They had never been good at them. Even before the Games, the first, and the second into which he had sent Peeta and Katniss, they had parted with a joke, a thank you. Never a goodbye.

Plus, if they could just make it to the train station and out of District 12, he would know that they no longer needed him, they no longer needed to worry whether he was awake, or drunk or anything of that nature, because this journey they would take alone. They no longer needed a mentor to keep them alive - they had each other for that now, and he had only the darkness.

A honking from outside reminded him that he also had his geese. His geese and the darkness, and, whether the last time he saw them would be in his nightmares or in person, he had family - the one thing he never imagined he would have when he finally died.

Before his thoughts could turn any darker, he heard something else. It was strange but familiar sound, unmistakably Peeta's thumping gait coming up his steps. The boy seemed to understand that this mind was made up. Maybe respected it. Could be he's coming to say goodbye- but then, why is the thumping so quick?

If he was undecided about Peeta's insistence, the loud, sharp raps to the door, an uncharacteristic growl made it clear. The boy's upset about something. Haymitch thought absently. More pounding, and Haymitch made no move to open the door. He made no move at all. The door handle jiggled, and Haymitch mentally praised himself for his paranoia. Finally paying off after all of these years.

"Haymitch!" Peeta's sounded ragged, "Haymitch, come on!"

Come on. Huh. Haymitch is not going anywhere.

"Haymitch, answer your damn door! Haymitch!" And Peeta is nothing if not the marvelously frustrating combination of stubborn and strong.

Haymitch's door really never had a chance.

Peeta was panting as he finally stepped through the remnants of the door, his face gaunt and his eyes wide. This, finally, inspired Haymitch to stand. He had only seen this look on Peeta's face a small handful of times. It never means anything good and it always means that their girl is in some kind of trouble.

They said her name simultaneously, Haymitch as a question, Peeta as an explanation.

Haymitch expected all manner of disaster when he opened their front door, thinking only briefly of glaring at Peeta to show him that Victors can use doors, too, you know. But he was thrown by the relative quiet of the entryway. Nothing seemed amiss. There was a humming from the kitchen and the sounds of breakfast being made.

But Peeta's face still had a look of horror on it and he seemed unable to cross the threshold.

"Come on, then, bub. What's happened?" Haymitch growled and ventured into the kitchen, leaving Peeta to play frozen deer on the porch.

Haymitch, expecting to see Katniss huddled under the table, rocking back and forth in the fetal position, wide-eyed and humming to herself, was surprised to see that she was standing at the stove, pushing some of the goose eggs he'd given them around a pan with a wooden spoon, humming cheerfully. Every hair braided back, not a single one out of place. She looked... fine.

"What's wrong with your beloved husband, then, sweetheart?" Haymitch questioned, expecting a sharp reply. Instead, Katniss just continued humming and sprinkled some pepper over the eggs. The humming was beginning to feel unnerving and he realized that she was transfixed on one line from one old song, _are you, are you, coming to the tree_.

"Sweetheart," he tried again. Nothing. Just that one line, again and again. The eggs, he noticed, were beginning to burn. This, strangely, she seemed to notice somehow and turned the stove down. As she turned just slightly to do this, Haymitch saw clearly what had startled the unflappable Peeta out of his skin.

Somewhere behind him, Peeta had found the courage to lumber inside, and was saying, in his softest, kindest voice. "Katniss, your name is Katniss Everlark, you are 20 years old, and your home is District 12, real or not real?"

Katniss gave no response. She was nearly catatonic in her stillness, her face stone-set with her vacant gaze. Haymitch thought he had seen enough of Katniss's masks, but this was not one of them. This was something entirely different; nothing. Her eyes as empty as clouds, her mouth barely closed to make that awful, haunting humming.

"Katniss, I'm Peeta, I'm your husband," Peeta pleaded. "Real or not real?" The young man suddenly sounded boyish, and terrified. "Katniss, real or not real?"

Haymitch chanced a glance back at Peeta' and saw the growing panic in his face. If he didn't do something, he was going to have catatonic Katniss and hijacked Peeta to deal with. Neither one of them was going to make their damn train to go off on their latest mission to make the world a better place, and then they'd be around to fuss over him every minute until he finally puffed his last exhale into the cold morning air.

"Peeta," he tried to keep his voice calm, but his hands shook this morning, as they did every morning for quite some time. He jammed them into the pockets of his trousers to hide them from Peeta, who was looking at him in the way that he first had, on the train on the way to the Capitol, as if somehow, he, Haymitch Abernathy, had all the answers.

He looked at Peeta, chewing on his words, trying to make them come out perfect. These two, it seemed, were not ready to face the world without a mentor. With a surprise, he realized that these two didn't just need him arbitrarily, but rather, believed in him. Believed that he, like them, was not too damaged to be capable of doing some good with the time he had left.

This was why they wanted him on this damn tour with them.

He found, when he searched his heart, and found one thing to be just as true now as it was when they were a couple of trembling children: He could not let them down. His words came, clear and commanding. "Peeta, get your things."

"But-," Peeta was almost as still as Katniss now.

"Your train leaves in 45 minutes, and it's gonna be a long walk to the square, bub." Then, he repeated, "Get your things."

Without another word, Peeta rushed upstairs, and returned in a moment with two suitcases.

Haymitch nodded to them, "That everything?"

"Yes," Peeta replied, a question in his eyes.

"Get the door," instructed Haymitch, and with that, he pulled his hands from his pocket, surprised to find them steady, and strong. In one sweeping motion, he snatched the still-humming Katniss up around the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. If his joints and muscles hadn't enjoyed standing that morning, they were really gonna love this. She was heavier than the last time he'd had to manhandle her.

Peeta stared in shock as Haymitch carried Katniss through the door and out into the morning, which was still as black as coal. In the distance, he could see steam rising from the train yard. They must be warming the engine up.

"Well, come on," He grunted to Peeta. Peeta obediently shut the door and fell in step behind him.

Katniss remained still until they got to the edge of the Victors' Village, then she began to wail. She screamed and shouted threats and obscenities that were sure to wake every living soul in District 12.

Sure enough, as they made their way, heads popped out from doorways, eyeballs could be seen peeking through curtains. Peeta kept his head down, trembling, and tired, but trusting Haymitch was doing the right thing, and as for Haymitch, well, he sure as hell hoped he was.

This was his best guess, the best answer he had to offer. Katniss froze up at the idea of returning to the world, of once again being in the spotlight and at the mercy of the Capitol or District 13 or whoever the hell was in charge of Panem these days. He hoped that if they could just get her on the damn train that they could deal with this then.

He shrugged Katniss up a bit higher, and put on his best scowl. He began to greet the people standing on their steps in nightclothes, barking, "Nice morning, ain't it?" or "She woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," trying to convince them that Katniss was fine. This was a bad way to start a public tour. He didn't need Effie there to tell him that.

After what seemed like hours, they reached the train station. Haymitch was exhausted, and when attendants finally came to help him with his 'baggage,' he nearly collapsed. He was in a fit, shaking and coughing and sat down, hard, on a bench while the attendants dragged Katniss onto the train. Peeta ran after them. Haymitch could hear commotion coming from the train, but tried to focus, to still his tremors, stifle his cough.

He pressed his hands together and took slow, shallow breaths, holding them for as long as possible before exhaling slowly.

"That girl just took months away from what I have left," he snapped at Peeta when he re-emerged from the train car about 15 minutes later.

Peeta looked wounded.

"Oh, she's worth it." Haymitch spat reluctantly, "Every goddamn minute."

"If she's so worth it," Peeta's voice was fragile, "Give her what you've got left. She needs you. I need you."

"No you don't," Haymitch deflated, determined to stay put on this bench until the train rolled out of the station.

"Panem needs you," Peeta tried.

At this, Haymitch laughed, "Panem can do whatever it wants, bub."

It was a conversational stalemate. Peeta fell silent, Haymitch stayed silent. The minutes stretched between them, and an attendant from the train informed Peeta that it was time to go.

"Haymitch," Peeta's voice broke. "I'm all out of words to make you come with us."

"Then stop talking." Haymitch heard himself say. In his mind, he was wondering if he could actually go through with sending them out into the world on their own. Haymitch was shaken from his thoughts by Peeta seating himself on the bench next to him.

Haymitch ignored him.

The train began to whistle and hiss.

Haymitch cast a sidelong glance at Peeta, who was pointedly not looking at the train as it began to creak forward.

Haymitch set his jaw. He would not play these childish games. He was too old to get sucked up in another adventure to save Panem.

The train began to pick up momentum, and the caboose was reaching the end of the platform. Finally, Haymitch broke the silence, "Peeta-"

"I'm not going without you."

"But Katniss-" Haymitch began

"She needs both of us," he said with infuriating calm.

Peeta was wrong. He had the right words waiting. Just like his goddamned interviews in the Capitol, saving the best, most persuasive words 'til the last second, and yet, somehow, finding them just in time.

Haymitch got to his feet. He knew it would take him longer to catch the train than it would Peeta. He broke into a run down to platform, towards the quickly retreating train. He began muttering obscenities, suddenly feeling like Katniss, being dragged from her home against her will. They had always been alike, he supposed, as Peeta passed him by, easily closing the distance between himself and the caboose.

Peeta caught the rail on the caboose and pulled himself onto the train with relative, ease, then turned to Haymitch, as if waiting to see if he might stop running. He could, now that Peeta was on the train. He could just stop running, but, he realized, not if he had to see the look on Peeta's face when he did.

He couldn't let them down. That's why he really had been relieved when he thought they might leave without saying goodbye. He wondered if it had ever been an option for him not to come along after all.

Like it or not, he thought, wheezing and finally reaching the back of the train where Peeta had a hand outstretched for him, he, Haymitch Abernathy, would be on the Voting Education Tour... even if it killed him.


	2. Swimming In The Ocean

**CHAPTER 2, Swimming In The Ocean**

Johanna was a prideful woman. In most people, this would be a vice. However, Johanna felt, and felt fairly accurately, that she had a good deal to be proud of these days. She was proud of Little Finn, that he learned quickly, that he had the best of both of his parents. Where Finnick could get carried away, get in too much trouble, Finn would just push the boundaries, taking what Johanna esteemed as brave, but not stupid risks. And where Annie might have stayed inside, kept to herself, Little Finn could meet new people and care for them nearly as deeply as his mother, but more easily. Johanna felt pride there too, as Annie was no longer an empty shell of a woman, but someone vibrant and beautiful, and an excellent mother.

And possibly, for the first time in her life, Johanna felt she could truly be proud of herself. Oh, she had always been cunning and strong. She had always had an incredible candor that others feared and appreciated. Now, Johanna couldn't help but feel her pride came from... having something to lose, something worth protecting, for the first time in many years.

When she was younger, she had accepted, with all her heart, that she had no one left for her - to love, to protect, to love her in return. Now she could see with painful clarity that even at the time she had been wrong. At the very least, Finnick had always been there for her, since they first met and unwaveringly since. But she had pushed him away. She had wanted to have no one. After she lost her family, her friends, she convinced herself that having no one made her strong.

She had been wrong. Until the rebellion ended, she felt only pride in her self-reliance. Then she'd lost Finnick, whom she'd barely regarded as a friend even when he was the only one she had. It was as if the scar she'd worn with pride had been ripped back open into a gaping, horrible wound - that it turns out, had never turned from a scab to a scar, a weakness to a strength.

From the open wound that seemed to overtake her entire reality with absolute and inescapable pain, she bled out all of the poison she'd sealed in. All of the hate, the fear, the arrogance that kept her so alone for so long, all of it, until she was empty. Only then, with Annie, had her healing begun. Little by little, first Annie, then Gale, then Finn, and even brainless Katniss and her boy wonder, Peeta, had, like so many stubborn sutures, stitched up her wound.

The all-encompassing pain faded to a dull ache, and some days was gone altogether. She knew now that her idea of strength in isolation was fool-hardy, at best, and completely self destruction otherwise. That was another thing she could take pride in. Johanna was finally becoming _perceptive. _She could step outside of herself to face a situation honestly, and openly, rather than through all of her twisted, jaded bias. She could see things as they truly were, not just as she believed them to be.

This morning, as they had finished packing their bags to board the train that would take them to District Two and then to District One where the tour would formally begin, she could tell something was wrong with her partner.

If Johanna was perceptive, then Annie was intuitive to the point of clairvoyance. Johanna had learned to listen when Annie mumbled to herself, though to an outsider they would seem like strange musings about water and oceans and fishes. Usually it was as calm as the tide, washing in and out, bringing colorful strangeness like tide pools, then leaving just as quickly leaving clean beach in its wake.

Once, in a fit of strange intensity, Annie had tried to tell Johanna that she was a pine tree woman on the inside, and that she, Annie, was a tide pool. This had been utterly nonsensical, but after Annie mentioned it, Johanna couldn't help but compare her wife to the bright pools that appeared and disappeared like so much magic.

Or at least, the strange remnants of Annie's trauma seemed to manifest like that. Today though, it was different. Annie had already helped Little Finn pack his things and skirted around their little seaside home murmuring anxiously in her white sundress with her dark tangle of hair floating after her. At the breakfast table, Johanna supervised Finn's breakfast while taking bites of her own toast while she tried to flick through the thick stack of papers Gale and Madge had sent.

"Annie," Johanna said carefully as her wife began to turn in slow circles, "Annie, come sit down. Eat some breakfast."

Annie's eyes, thankfully were not vacant and she looked at her wife almost tearfully.

"Jo, there's a whirlpool," she explained in strange desperation.

"Yeah, probably," Johanna demurred as she took one of Annie's somehow white porcelain hands and led her to the table.

"Eat, Mommy!" Finn encouraged from where he was rather tightly wedged in his highchair.

As was fairly common, it was Little Finn who broke through to Annie. Today, though, it only seemed to make enough of a dent for her to reach for the juice and pour herself a glass.

"There's a little fish caught in the whirlpool," Annie mumbled before taking a sip.

"Well," Johanna said robustly, "Finny, isn't it lucky fish can swim?"

This pleased their son to no end, "Fish swim, Finn swim, Majo swim, Mommy swim!" He chanted; their morning seagoing ritual.

"Fish swim," Annie repeated somewhat vacantly.

"Majo," Finn addressed Johanna, "Mommy is sad about faycation?"

"No, Finnling, Mommy's just worried we'll forget the ocean shell, right, love?" Johanna prodded.

"No, no, I packed the conch." Annie seemed only somewhat less distracted as she took a piece of toast for herself and munched thoughtfully.

It didn't worry Johanna that Annie was distracted this morning. In fact, if someone had asked her how Annie would respond to this trip, she might have predicted this. But she hadn't taken the time to wonder exactly what about the trip would be the troublesome part for Annie. It occurred to her that two women and a toddler wasn't exactly a normal family, but weirder things had been on Capitol television, and no one had said a peep about it before. Perhaps it was that vicious _tour_ word, that made things too much like their own victory tours. Both very unpleasant experiences, Johanna was sure. Johanna had the Clean Up Tour to wipe that somewhat, but still, she could imagine that being in some of the Districts again might be scary for Annie.

Or was it something else entirely? She didn't think seeing the others would be bad, considering the time they'd recently spent with the Hawthornes and the newly-minted Everlarks, and how well that time seemed to have gone despite the incredible shitstorm that had been possible.

"When do we ride the train?" Finn questioned, jam in his bronze hair.

"Not for a few hours yet, maybe we can go..." she tilted her head to the furthest window, where the ocean was just visible through the curtain.

This was why Johanna would never live in District Seven again. They might go there for a few weeks of the year, but like or not, she was a tree in love with two fish. Trees, Johanna had thought to herself more than once, can thrive anywhere. But fish, well, fish need the ocean. This was incredibly apparent as both mother and son lit up.

"Oh Jo," Annie said quietly, her face aglow with hope, "do you think we have time?"

"Course we do, seashell. It's only 8 and you've packed every da-" Johanna caught herself, after Little Finn had learned to repeat her _saltier_ vocabulary ending in a spectacular event where Finn had tried to purchase "_Some fucking fishes, please, damn it,"_ she had been much more careful about her language. Annie had only laughed, telling her that Finn would grow up amongst sailors and no one would be bothered. But where Johanna was from, she would have gotten a good smack for cursing. That, and Finn would be in other districts too, where swearing children were not probably looked upon as well-raised. And Johanna would be, yes, damned, if anyone thought Finn wasn't being raised well. So she continued more carefully, "every darn thing we own. We've got a good two hours for swimming."

So it was that the three of them ate and cleaned up for their breakfast quickly. After a brief incident in which Finn had attempted to escape his cramped highchair and gotten his hand stuck, he chanted all the way down to the ocean,

"Fish swim, Finn swim, Mommy swim, Majo swim, Fish swim, Finn swim..."

Johanna wondered if the tightness that clenched her stomach as she approached the water would ever fully dissipate. Maybe if she lived to be as old as Mags, she mused, as she watched Annie and Finn dive in at full speed. Johanna always worried about Finn in the water. The sea was not quiet and the waves were frequently higher than his little head. But it never perturbed Annie as their son was tossed, drawn under and emerged sputtering with a huge grin on his face. This, if anything, was why Johanna had finally gone into the ocean.

She had always been a land-dweller to the point of not showering when it wasn't necessary, and that was before her torture in the Capitol. It had taken Annie months to coax her into the ocean, though not as many as she would have originally thought. It was Annie toting the tiny baby Finn into the shallows that finally convinced her. Not because this provided her certainty that it was safe. Though Johanna knew that Annie loved Finn more than absolutely anything, she also knew that Annie simply trusted the ocean too firmly, despite her knowledge that the sea had eaten hundreds, thousands of District Four citizens. In the first few unsteady steps that Annie took with Finn cradled carefully, Johanna had a moment of clarity, a revelation of what it was in her life that had changed.

A swell of bravery overcame her and she crashed into the water after them, encircling her family with a great hug, protecting them from the swelling wave that crashed into them seconds after she got there. _Protecting them. Family._ Johanna was protecting her family. No longer could she claim there was no one left she loved. It was terrifying, and yet, exhilarating - not unlike the salty sea in which they stood.

This memory seemed to strike Johanna every time they came down to the water's edge, especially on a day like today. A reminder of what she had earned, and what she had the power to give others - Freedom from the fear that would have kept her alone for her entire life, had the Rebels not been brave enough to fight the battle that they did. She had not fought that fight, at least, not in the way that Gale, or Katniss, or even Peeta did.

The memory of her failure to take part in the Rebellion, to save Finnick, to do any good at all hit her hard, adding a dull ache in her chest to the knot in her stomach. Her eyes found Annie's head bobbing in the blue-green sea. She had been sure that an ocean bath was what Annie needed to clear her head for the journey. Annie's face turned in her direction, and though she was too far away to catch the nuances, Johanna could see a smile cross her fragile features.

She could still do good. Annie believed it, she would have to too. It was as simple as that.

Johanna tried her best to shake the feelings of anxiety and regret, and simply enjoy the last few hours she would spend alone with her family before their trip. She let go of her worries and rooted her feet against a wave, which Annie and Finn rode together. She caught one of them in each of her arms as another wave washed through.

Finn giggled. Annie smiled. Johanna held them both, protecting them from the waves, the world, and the unseen future.


	3. Crawling

**CHAPTER 3: Crawling**

It was bitterly cold in District 2 that morning. Madge stayed in the shower for far too long, wanting to put off leaving her steamy sanctuary for as long as possible. She couldn't tell how much of the cold was real, and how much she might be imagining. Certainly, it was winter, but she was used to the cold. Winters in 2 were nothing compared to winters in 12.

Her perception of the temperature seemed to have more to do with the impending feeling of dread that had been settling over the Hawthorne family than with the actual state of the weather.

It had started almost immediately upon their return from the wedding. Gale was the first to fall victim to the icy chill that had overtaken them. He had become withdrawn, preoccupied, and agitated - and it was getting worse by the day. His temper was volatile, and when he did snap, or yell, afterward he was despondent to the point of being inconsolable. He had taken the time off of work to 'prepare' for the upcoming tour, but Madge knew he hadn't touched the pile of research and briefings that had been sent to them.

She would come into the bedroom to find him just sitting, with his elbows on his knees, his hands pressed hard against his eyes in complete silence. He didn't seem to remember how long he had been there, or why he came into the bedroom to start with.

Even their love-making had become fierce and desperate. It felt, to Madge, like the first few times they'd had sex, coming from a place of fear and need, rather than from want, or from love. This in particular frightened Madge, because the physical plane had always been one on which they could see eye to eye.

Madge wished Gale weren't so private. She had asked him to talk about what was bothering him, and been answered with slamming doors, long unexplained walks, and shouting. Which led to him being inconsolable, and the cycle would begin all over again.

She was beyond knowing what to do. She had simply read the information about the tour over and over and over to the point where she believed that she must have it memorized. At that point, all she could do was pack their bags. Gale's agitated state fell over her, until she found herself standing on the porch, staring out at nothing for long periods of time, coming to with no memory of why she went outside or how long she'd been standing there.

She and Gale, although married, were leading separate lives. They only came together for Maysilee. Her birthday party, her school, and so forth. Beyond that, they fell completely out of sync. Madge's only frame of reference for the way their marriage was working - or wasn't, more accurately - came from a terrible time in their relationship.

Just after Gale had come home from the rebellion, and Madge and Maysilee had moved into his home. For the first few weeks, everything was awkward and painful, but loving, and healing. It was then that Gale got called away on the Clean-Up Tours.

Since no official title had been assigned to their relationship before that point, Madge and Gale were simply Maysilee's parents. In a futile attempt to remedy this, Gale asked Madge to be his wife, with a sort of coarseness that only Gale could manage while asking something so gentle.

This was complicated, because Gale asked her practically as he was walking out the door to leave for the Tour, and this question warranted hours of conversations. Madge wanted to say that of course she wanted to, and she would wait as long as it took until they were ready, and she would be here when he returned with a steaming pot of coffee, ready to talk it out.

Instead, she said she would think about it.

Her answer didn't provide the sense of closure Gale had hoped for, and so he left, brusk and disappointed. She wanted to go after him, and try to explain that she didn't want Gale to marry her just because of Maysilee; and they had barely been in each other's company for a month since discovering that the other wasn't dead; and that the timing was simply all wrong.

She stayed still and mute as a statue and watched him disappear into the din and noise of District 2 in the early morning. Beautiful and broken, he left her a mirror image of him - she, just like him, feeling like a oh so many glass shards that simply wouldn't fit back together just right.

Gale didn't write, the way he had promised, or call.

Madge's mother once said, in a moment of delirium, that "Love isn't like soaring together, it's like crawling together." Whether or not her mother was right, this was the phase of Madge and Gale's relationship that she would call, "crawling."

In fact, if love was crawling together, this was the period in their relationship where they were crawling in opposite directions.

She had gone on a few dates with someone else, Serger, one of the fathers who had a daughter at Maysilee's daycare. A merchant's son from 8, he had lost his wife during the rebellion. Serger was young, handsome, funny, and most importantly to Madge, he was there for her.

He took her calls late at night when Maysilee was sick or couldn't sleep, and he helped her around the house or to get her errands done when she got overwhelmed. Their relationship wasn't too serious, but it was enough for Madge.

They had fun. He made her laugh.

When Gale returned from the Clean-Up Tours 6 months later, it was as if he was returning from the Rebellion all over again. If he had left broken, he returned shattered, and somehow, more hardened to the world than ever. The nightmares came back, and the mood swings, but they had lost their ability to talk to one another. They were struck mute by the time and the distance between them, and so they slept in separate rooms and ate meals at separate times.

Gale pretended not to notice when Madge's 'friend' came to pick her up, or stayed suspiciously late at night. She, in turn, pretended not to notice when he came home reeking of alcohol, slurring and stumbling - a regular Haymitch Abernathy.

She began to grow cold inside. Serger no longer made her laugh, made her feel at ease. She spent less time out in the District, and more time alone, hating herself, hating Gale for doing this to her. She didn't owe him anything, or so she told herself at the time.

Finally there was one night, Maysilee had a fever - one of many she had around that time, due to chronic and severe ear infections. These infections, it turned out, were common in babies born in the Homes for Unwed Mothers that the Capitol set up, due to having developing immune systems in the inconsistent temperatures, harsh conditions, and cramped quarters. River, Caridee and Gentry's son had the same problem, and had some permanent hearing loss as a result. Another girl at the home, Bolin, from District 4, had her son die of one such fever.

This particular night, Madge was in full panic mode, taking Maysilee's temperature every few minutes, calling and calling and calling, but her friend Serger must have been busy that night. Maysilee, in her weeping pain, rubbed her tiny fists over her ears and her face in that disoriented, sad, baby way. After long hours, Madge began to feel their pain was the same. A ringing in her ears. The heat in her head. The utter confusion and pain only babies and abandoned lovers can understand: _What is this terrible feeling? Why is this happening to me? _

To this day, she never learned what Serger had been doing that night.

Instead, Gale came home, suspiciously sober. He came into Maysilee's room, probably noticing that the light was still on and took one look at Madge's tear-streaked face, white as a sheet with terror for Maysilee, and completely overwhelmed to boot. She had been a shaking, incoherent mess. Without so much as a wasted word, he called her a car and came with her to the Hospital.

Gale held her hand through the rest of the night while the doctors struggled with Maysilee's fever.

Once she had stabilized, and her fever broke, the doctors came and told "Maysilee's parents" that she needed to be kept for the next couple of days to be re-hydrated and given proper doses of the all the required antibiotics. Then she would need to be monitored to make sure her fever didn't spike back up once night fell.

Madge could barely process what they were saying, she was so overcome by her exhaustion. Curiously, the only thing she remembered about their words was that they had called Gale and her "Maysilee's parents" specifically, like they were a unit, a couple. No one had called them that since Gale returned home.

Once Madge had signed all of the necessary paperwork, Gale offered to walk her home, then come back to the Hospital to keep an eye on Maysilee. Madge protested, but weakly. She knew in her heart that sleep was something that she desperately needed. Finally, she nodded assent, and Gale put his jacket around her shoulders and walked her home in his token silence.

As they made their way up the porch steps, Madge found the words she hadn't had the courage to say when Gale had arrived home weeks ago, "Do you want me to leave?"

"What?" His silvery eyes were almost black in the darkness, looking as wide as a child's; startled.

Tears and words flowed freely from Madge, "You changed your mind, right? That's why you didn't call, or write? That's why you left me completely by myself with the daughter you were so happy to call ours?"

Madge had worked it all out, too. She had already talked to Caridee and Gentry about getting some work in 10, and living with them for a while until she had enough money to get her own place. She couldn't believe, looking back, that she had been so ready to leave him.

"You're the one who replaced me with some nobody!" Gale had accused.

She was floored. She didn't even know that it bothered him.

"What was I supposed to do?" Madge shot right back.

Gale's answer, she hadn't been prepared for. He'd broke down sobbing, right there. Fell to his knees at her feet and cried, "Believe in me. Believe me when I say I want you to be my wife, that I want to take care of you and Maysilee, that I want us to be a family. Believe me. Believe _in _me. Just... believe..."

Madge had looked at him then, taken in this broken, tragic man laying himself at her feet out of love for her, need for her, and realized that this Gale, this vulnerable piece of work was the one she recognized - the one she loved.

From that day forward, whenever things got hard, this was the Gale she had to look for, to remember was there, even if he was buried deep. She could always find him though, even if it took a few months, or longer. Hiding somewhere in his beautiful eyes, she would catch him, pleading with her to give him a sign, a smile, any indication that she knew he was there.

That night, when he asked her again to be his wife, she said yes.

The memory was haunting Madge, as she finally left the shower, dressed, and traveled with her family to the train station. Maysilee looked perfect in a sunburst colored coat that faded from pink to orange to yellow, and a hat to match. She had picked it out herself and thought it was just marvelous for her first day of vacation.

Madge herself was in a simple slate grey coat and black boots. Gale was dressed in all black. It did nothing to soften his scowl in the harsh morning light. She made a mental note to talk to Soleila about changing his color scheme on the tour, in order to make him appear less soldier-like. It was completely unapproachable, all hard angels and scowls. It wouldn't do.

She herself was not much better today.

There were a few cameras at the platform, Madge wasn't sure if they were affiliated with the tour, or some other source. She tried to think back to whether the packets they'd been sent said anything about that or not. She'd thought she knew them backwards and forwards, but the knot of dread in her stomach made it hard to concentrate on anything besides not throwing up as they made their way through a small crowd to their platform.

Gale surprised her, though, when he took her hand, and turned her around, towards the crowd, towards the camera and gave a smile, and a wave. Madge followed suit, and Maysilee too, far more enthusiastically than her parents could manage.

After a few more minutes of crowd pleasing, Gale turned them back around and took Madge under his arm.

"Whatever happens on this tour, Madge," Gale's voice was quiet, and soft, and yes, a little broken as he told her, "Believe in me."

And there it was, the magic words, the magic tone in Gale's voice - vulnerable, yet strong, and wanting nothing more than to protect his family from whatever unseen danger had led him to his behavior over the past month.

Madge felt calmer, even as they stepped onto the train. Maysilee and Finn embraced quickly and began chattering away about their traveling clothes. But Katniss's eyes looked hazy. Peeta and Haymitch couldn't seem to get far enough away from one another, and Johanna kept a watchful eye and a gentle hand on Annie, who seemed in danger of floating away on the wind. These faces told her that Gale was not alone in his hunch.

Something was deeply wrong.


	4. Organized Chaos

**CHAPTER 4: **Organized Chaos

Peeta Everlark had a bit of experience calming the people around him. Years with Katniss and Haymitch, all the time with his parents and brothers and even his brief stint as a career had taught Peeta how to keep the peace. He didn't mind the role. It suited him and it made other people feel better. He of course had a natural ease with his words, but he was also the only person who didn't seem to lose his cool when things got a little messy.

Today, things were messy. Messier, in fact, than he had ever imagined they could be.

He remembered District One as a series of strange villages. Katniss had been in particularly bad shape when they'd visited on their victory tour, so Peeta had only moments to glimpse what might have been the most beautiful place he had ever seen. It was possible, he thought ruefully, that Katniss would never see this place with her mind in the right place. She hadn't said another word since the train pulled away from District 12 beyond the occasional 'yes,' 'no,' or strange sound.

Except at night. Her nightmares, it seemed, had come back with a vengeance. She awoke each night on the train crying out in a cold sweat. As they had as children, though, they found their way. She would wake up, he would hold her, and they would find sleep again. It was a rhythm they knew as sound a they knew the rising of the sun or the ticking of a clock.

Katniss, though, began to interrupt this pattern. One night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, when she awoke, and Peeta went to wrap her in his arms, she'd kissed him fiercely, breathing his breath, tasting his lips with the kind of fire they shared only in their most intimate of moments, and then, then, as quickly as it had occurred, she had curled into him, and fallen asleep.

Besides the nights, however, Katniss seemed determined to spend the train ride staring vacantly into space. For Peeta, this simply marked the third passage to the Capitol that he would spend with her feeling fully uncertain of where they stood.

He was close to simply accepting her catatonia for the train ride and attempting to bring her back to him her once they reached District One. Another night of the journey, when the nightmares came, as they always did, and he pressed his wife to him to quiet her fears, she began squirming her way in between his shirt and his skin. He caught her chin in his hands and stared into her eyes. They were sharp, clear and lit by that familiar fire.

"Katniss," Peeta whispered to her in the darkness, "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Her answer came slowly, carefully.

"Why are you-" She pressed a finger to his lips.

"It's easier." She sounded pained. Not deliriously so, as when she awoke from a nightmare, but very, very lucidly so. "This way I can forget. Pretend like maybe this is the first time I took this train ride, or even the second. They were less painful than this time."

"Why?" Peeta took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Prim. Haymitch." She mused, then dryly. "I never thought I'd be on a train with Gale. It just... brings up too much, too many memories I'd like to forget."

Peeta's heart ached for her. He had thought she was miles away, pretending this wasn't happening, but in truth, it seemed she was reliving her worst moments aboard this train, isolated and helpless.

"What can I do?" Peeta asked her, bringing her in for a hug.

She stopped him with a deep, long kiss.

"Help me forget." Katniss's words were syrupy, the way she always drew them out when she was trying to be sexy. "Help me forget that Haymitch is dying and that Prim's dead."

Peeta smiled weakly. "We're taking Haymitch somewhere they may be able to help them and... Prim..." He stopped short. What could he say that was comforting? "No one can hurt her, use her, anymore. She's no longer a piece in anyone's Game. Not Coin's, not Snow's, she's safe."

"Safe," Katniss tried the word. She sounded hopeful. Her face iced over after a moment though, as she spat, bitterly. "Dead. She's not safe, Peeta. She's dead."

Peeta deflated.

Katniss tried to kiss him again, and he pushed her away. "Katniss, I-" What? He didn't want her to use him to forget about bad things? That wasn't true. He wanted her to forget anything she wanted to. He wanted her to forget the things that hurt her. He also wanted her to believe that Prim was safe, wherever she was now, but that was not going to happen. Perhaps forgetting was the best he could do right now.

Peeta realized he was staring at his knees, fists clenched. He looked to Katniss. She was perched beside him on the bed, looking pensive.

"How long was I-" he started to ask.

"10 minutes, give or take." She whispered, "It's alright." She added, before he could apologize. They both found themselves losing a few minutes here or there. They were used to it.

As he tangled his fingers in her soft, cool hair, he realized that this was sad. He cradled her head as he lay her down, sprawling across their giant Capitol train bed. Being used to being damaged. It was sad.

He held himself above her on his arms, staring into her beautiful face. He wondered if this was the same bed they'd shared when they were younger. His memory used to be better, but now was too hazy to remember if this was the same train or not. It was a Capitol train, so maybe.

His eyes traced the lashes of her eyes, the luminescence of her cheek bones, the curve of her lips. He glanced from scar to scar in the pattern he had memorized across her face. He thought, as he leaned in to kiss her, that he would never be able to refuse Katniss anything.

So he helped her forget.

He reached down into the folds of cloth, brushing the sheets aside until he found her smooth thighs, tracing the space between them lightly until his fingers found her, already wet, waiting for him.

His kissed her again and again, tasting her moans as he touched her from the inside out. Their heartbeats, their breathing synced as they peeled off their clothing. Peeta's skin burned for Katniss, as their bodies met, entangled, and moved as one.

Finally he thrust into her, again and again until they had both reached their peak. He tried his best to bring her back to life. Katniss, for her part, didn't take her eyes off of him during their throws of passion. Her eyes were steady, present, and sad.

The next morning, he awoke to the same eyes in District 1. She had broken free of the ghosts that were haunting her, at least for now. She took his hand at the breakfast table, and didn't let go even as they made their way off the train. With all of this strangeness going on, it wasn't any wonder Peeta hadn't spent time thinking about their destination. He'd forgotten all about what District One was like.

It all came flooding back to him. Gale and Madge argued quietly wrangling Maysilee as was necessary, Katniss clung to him uncharacteristically, but seemed determined to be brave, Haymitch, looking yellower and shakier than ever, only growled and looked for a space to sit down. Johanna had her hands full with Annie and Little Finn, who seemed to be intent on moving in two directions at all times. Peeta gently squeezed Katniss's hand in his and whispered,

"Oh, Katniss..." He was dumbstruck in his attempt to comment on its beauty.

He had forgotten the murals which covered every available wall. Someone had pointed out when they were here before, but Peeta had forgotten until now. Artists in District One weren't allowed their own canvas until they had a firm idea and had already fleshed it out on a wall, a floor or a ceiling. Almost every house, almost every building had a series of strange and marvelous paintings scrawled along the sides.

He had forgotten the people and their clothing. He had forgotten that everything fashionable in the Capitol was born here and the result was a cacophony of colors, ideas, hats, gloves, skirts, scarves, jewelry, patterns. No one seemed to match and no one seemed to care. People floated through the square in every imaginable combination.

And the sounds! Peeta wasn't a musician himself, but the sounds of voices, stringed instruments and somewhere a piano wafted through the air and left him feeling lighter and happier than before. Everything beautiful about the Capitol was perfected here before being packaged up, plasticked, and shipped down the mountain. Katniss's wide eyes darted from instrument to instrument, unsurprisingly baffled at their shapes, colors, and sounds. Peeta tried to follow her eyes, and use one of the instruments as a conversation starter, but was interrupted by someone nearly crashing into him .

"Hello! How silly! There you are!" She chirped loudly enough that the whole group seemed to suddenly coalesce from seven adults in various states of mental crumbling into a group of people with a purpose. She wasn't an old woman, Peeta didn't think, but she wasn't young either. Honestly, she looked a bit like Effie gone utterly wrong. Her pink hair was _not_ a wig and her eyes were _purple_, her face had an extra pair of lips painted on the left cheek.

With a start, Peeta glanced around at his traveling companions and fumbled for some modicum of politeness, "Hello, I'm Peeta Everlark, this is my wife-"

"Ridiculous, dear, ridiculous!" The woman crowed, her voice trilled with every word and she clapped her hands with what seemed to be excitement.

From behind him, he could almost sense Madge holding Gale back. He heard him grumble something that sounded suspiciously like, "Ridiculous? Has she ever met a mirror?"

She was dressed in what might have resulted if a nightgown and a quilt somehow managed to have a baby. If that baby also had nonsense words stitched all down its arm and was an alarming shade of mustard yellow.

He heard Johanna shushing Little Finn who had begun to ask "What is...?"

Peeta found it hard to begin speaking again, "Yes, well, we were just hoping to get to our hotel before the speeches tonight."

The Effie-like creature just blinked a few times, lips drawn tight in a rather winning smile.

Madge, ever the diplomat's daughter stepped forward, "We'd love it if you'd take us there?"

"How completely ludicrous!" The woman cried again, and shook Peeta's hand, smiling all the while, "It's not a problem, dearlings! Of course, you'll be wanting to freshen up!" Her violet eyes swept over them carefully and landed on Katniss, who was still staring off at one of the instruments they'd passed by, a stringed instrument with 3 sets of strings following necks in different directions, "Oh an _owl_," the woman cooed, "Oh, how utterly preposterous!"

Before anyone could say anything to stop her, the woman reached out and thwacked Katniss on the head with a fan no one had realized she was holding.

There was a sudden, terrified hiss as all seven of the travelers took in a startled breath.

The woman only looked expectantly into Katniss's face, looking somewhat saner than she had just two seconds before, despite having hit arguably one of the most dangerous people in Panem with a frilly green fan.

"Come on, owlie, there's nothing in your head you can't make real!"

"Sure there is," Katniss grumbled her response. Katniss continued to wow their party, as they had not heard her speak the night previous as Peeta had.

"Oh pish posh!" The woman clucked, turning on her heel. The children particularly appreciated this expressed, as they parroted, "pish posh, pish posh," to each other in response. This resulted in a shrill crescendo of bubbling giggles from the woman, and she joined in.

"Pish posh, pish posh!" The kids and the woman said it back and forth in strange tones and funny voices. Soon Annie joined in too, for good measure. This got Johanna laughing one of her barking, hearty laughs that was just too infectious to ignore.

By the time they had made it to their hotel - a grand, sea green building covered in yet more beautiful sketches - everyone was in a considerably improved mood, even Katniss, who had started out the morning, hell, the entire trip on a shaky foot.

Peeta found himself walking lighter, despite being weighed down by bags, than he ever could have imagined for this being the first stop on their tour. Tonight would be a challenge, but he felt ready. More than that, he thought everyone was ready.

As a group, they were shaky, but he knew, with their trembling hands, they would rebuild Panem, one crumbling brick at a time.


	5. When In District 1

**CHAPTER 5:** When in District 1

Gale kept hold of Madge's hand as he towed her along the sidewalk toward their hotel. Maysilee was heavy on his hip, and had already fallen asleep. Far past her bedtime, he thought with a growl. This tour was going to spoil his daughter, who already thought herself special.

It had been a long night. His face was sore from smiling, his throat hoarse from talking, and yet he felt they'd accomplished almost nothing in the nearly 6 hours they'd spent on "Voting Tour Activities" - if drinking, partying, and being introduced to about 1,000 people counted as tour activities.

The strange woman who'd met them at the platform and lead them to their hotel, Anise Bolera, they learned her name was, had delivered them straight into the hands of Plutarch, Cressida, Soleila, and Pollux, who'd gotten straight to work dressing them in the 'clothes of the District.'

Their budget hadn't allowed clothes to be custom made for them like it used to be in the Games. Instead, Soleila had the bright idea that in order to make them 'relatable' to each District, she would round up second hand clothing in their sizes and repair it, making them look like they belonged wherever they were speaking.

In military Districts like 2 and 13, or even the Lumber District, 7, this would mean practical, comfortable clothing. Unfortunately, in this superfluous District, it meant color, flounce, and impracticality.

Haymitch had been so yellow, so unsteady, that they'd tried giving him tea, and few other remedies, to help him settle. Eventually, he was sent to his room to lie down and skip the nights activities. While Gale understood that Haymitch was ill in someway, he couldn't help but think he was a bit lucky to dodge the bullet of the fashion stylings of District 1.

Gale didn't have the words to describe to rainbow of nonsense that they wore, as a group. Maysilee, who wore a rainbow tutu, light up tights, glittering rain boots, and a furry pink shirt pulled it off, seeing as it was an outfit she may pick for herself if allowed. Poor Madge, however, was in flat shoes with ribbons that laced all up her legs, and a skin tight lace dress, which her mismatched leather-studded undergarments shown through.

While this was something he may enjoy seeing her wear in private - in fact, he found himself wishing to do nothing more than tear it off of her - it drove him to fits thinking about the whole nation seeing his wife in this costume. Katniss, Johanna, and Annie didn't fair much better. Annie wore a green waterfall of a dress that trailed behind her on the ground and was open from neck to navel, display golden swirls of body paint shimmering against her pale skin.

Johanna was dressed more feminine than he'd seen in awhile. Her hair was in a sort of spiked row on top of her head, and her dress spiked to match. The harsh dark colors of the dress - which looked to him to be metallic in nature - matched her makeup, which almost made a mask around her eyes - as if Johanna Mason needed to look more intimidating.

Finn, taking after his father, found a way to look handsome in the golden net they gave him as a cape, probably a nod to Finnick's costume in the Tribute Parade before the last Games. Underneath his cape, which he didn't seem to mind, was a puffy sea-colored monstrosity. He, like Maysilee, was unphased.

Gale had almost died when they gave him his own outfit, blue-grey shimmering pants in a sort of fake leather that clung to him uncomfortably, a sheer collar one might see on a business shirt, and a leather sort of harness contraption. Nothing else. He felt incredibly naked, in fact, he and Annie exchanged uncomfortable glances throughout the evening as they tried to cover where they was no fabric on their respective outfits.

Peeta, used to the Capitol's ridiculous costumes from his time as a Tribute and then a Victor, didn't even flinch as they put on him a sort of tight-fitting jumpsuit that gradually changed color from red at his shoulders to black at his feet, embellished with golden studs and bangles. He would have thought they would try to match Peeta and Katniss, as they had in the Games, but of course, her humiliation must be the greatest, since she was the most famous.

Their outfits paled in comparison to the strange beauty that was Katniss's. She wore a full feathered headpiece, pounds of tight, brightly turquoise necklaces, and a sort of scarf wrapped around her breasts, which was not quite, but almost see-through. Her midriff was exposed, wrapped in gold chains, and her pants looked more like underwear in the same deep teal as her top. Flowing down the back of her legs wear exotic feathers in all colors, forming a pile on the floor behind her. She wore no shoes, and her ankles were dressed in more turquoise and gold jewelry.

More than the rest of them, who looked, like Gale, to jokes, Katniss looked fearless - her patchwork of skin exposed, scars bared for the nation to see; her harsh makeup cut deep lines in her serious face. Gale took courage from her proud posture and resolute attitude.

If she could do it, so could they. He remembered then, why it was so easy to follow Katniss's lead. They'd fallen into step behind her, nodding obediently as Plutarch instructed them about District 1's customs. Somewhere around when Plutarch began warning them that District One folks didn't have much in the way of personal boundaries, "So don't let a kiss or a smack on the bottom upset you too terribly," Gale had to step in.

"Hold it," He tried to sound patient, as immediately his daughter and his wife's eyes found him, "I thought we were educating the District about voting. Do you mind telling me what the hell this freak show of a popularity contest has to do with that?"

It was Cressida who answered him, with a pat on the cheek, "Everything my, dear. You see, the District already understands what voting is and how it works, but you are here to lead them by example. To explain why voting is relevant to them, to peak their interest."

Plutarch continued, "People are hesitant, still afraid after... after the whole Snow and Coin fiasco." He waved it off, and Gale could sense Katniss stiffen. "They want to know that they are placing their vote in good hands, in a good future. You need to help them believe in that future."

"What if-," Johanna was the one who spoke the question on everyone's mind, "What if we don't believe in it?"

Peeta, this time, spoke up, "It doesn't matter. This isn't about us. I think-," he pulled Katniss closer to his side, "I think we've all found the small measure of peace that we'll have in this life, but... these people, the people of Panem... have a real chance. Their vote means they get to choose, a liberty that none of us had."

That seemed to be enough, even for Gale.

He thought about what it had meant to him, to choose Madge, to choose the District he wanted to live in. Choice; this election was all about choice - giving a choice to people who barely understood the concept of choosing. All the pamphlets and brochures in the world couldn't have prepared them to teach this, and yet, he wasn't angry that they'd been sent to them. This way, if people did have questions regarding the vote, he, or anyone in their party could explain the answer.

More importantly, they needed to win this damn popularity contest - just like the Games. He chanced a glance at Katniss, who had been silent and stone-still, staring ahead and listening to Plutarch intently. He glanced at Peeta, the way his free hand shook and the way his eyes seemed to struggle to keep focus. It was the only confirmation he needed that this was hitting close to home for them.

Plutarch finished his explanation of District 1 and it's customs, as well as its doubts regarding the election - they were worried about their freedoms being taken away, their freedom to express, to experience.

It would be their job to stress that this government system would be new, and different than the last. Truly a system where they would be given a vote in the lawmaking process. That was, in fact, what their District representatives would be for, to give them a voice in the government. This, in fact, was why this first step in the election process would be so important.

Gale went first, something he never imagined he would do as they moved into the crowded party that was being held in their honor. It reminded him of the party he had seen clips of the night Katniss and Peeta had gotten engaged, yet, more genuine somehow.

There were tables of food and brightly colored decorations, but it was more... free, more open. It was outdoors for one thing, and in that way it reminded him of his own wedding. Before there were even speeches, there was a meal - a bizarre meal, at that, featuring a host of flavors that didn't seem to quite fit together, bright orange fowl coated in a sauce so sweet it coated your throat, yet so spicy it made your eyes burn, brightly colored puddings and jams, small dumplings filled with veggies and meat and coated in a creamy brown sauce.

Strange foods that seemed somehow, less polished than Capitol food, less efficient than District 2 food, but instead, infused with a kind of... passion. This must be the way everything here was, he thought.

To Gale's great relief, Madge and Maysilee were having a wonderful time. They were enjoying the food, and being sat at the table of honor at the forefront of the party. Johanna and Annie were feeding Finn all sorts of bites from this or that, watching him turn colors with delight at the multitude of flavors he knew they didn't have in 4, where everything was salty and from the sea. Katniss and Peeta, too, in their own quiet way were enjoying themselves - laughing, touching each other's hands, faces, feeding each other. He was the only one of them who seemed out of place. He swallowed another bite of food.

He just couldn't stop thinking about how many had to go without so that this District could have all the food they wanted.

"What'cha thinking about, Soldier Hawthorne?" A gruff male voice interrupted his thought. He snapped his head up to find himself looking into the eyes of a 40-something year old man with greying hair, somehow managing to be wearing a reasonable suit. Despite himself, Gale crossed his arms over his bare chest.

"H-how do you know my name?" He managed.

"We all have TVs in District 1," the man laughed. "We were very aware of the rebellion, since we are sort of... were sort of under the Capitol's wing."

"Ah," was all Gale could think to say.

"Anywho," the man stuck out his hand. "I thought you did fine work as part of that Star Squad. You're still alive anyway, so you must have done alright, name's Ryder."

Gale, taken aback by the man's straightforwardness, shook his hand. No one else in this District seemed to be able to get through a sentence without adding in about 5 unnecessary words. "Gale Hawthorne." Gale said automatically, then with a gesture in Madge and Maysilee's direction, he added, "And that's my wife and daughter, Madge and Maysilee Hawthorne."

The man nodded, "Yeah, my wife is around here somewhere..." He gestured toward the awful woman, Anise, who had greeted them at the train station. "There she is, bit more social than I am, I'm afraid." He glanced to Madge and Maysilee who seemed to be enjoying a conversation with an attendant who came to take their empty plates. "You might have the same problem?" He jibed, harmlessly.

"Yeah," Gale admitted sheepishly, realizing he was only incriminating himself further by answering monosyllabically. Ryder was still looking at Madge and Maysilee.

"How old is your daughter?" He sounded distant.

"4, she had her birthday a bit before we left," Gale supplied. Then, after a moment, he asked, "Do you have kids?"

The distance in the man's eyes answered for him. "No," Ryder admitted. Anise- my wife, she can't have kids... Doctor says there's something wrong with her."

Gale thought back to the way Anise had giggled and played along with Finn and Maysilee, and realized how hard it must be for her and Ryder, not having children. He wasn't sure why Ryder was telling him this, though.

"Anyway, you seem like a man who... really gets a lot out of being a father."

"I do," Gale didn't have to force a depth in his voice as he said this.

"I'm- I know you can't play favorites, but I'm running for District Representative. One of the laws I am interested in is adoption," Ryder's eyes were directed at the floor.

"What's-" Gale tried to picture the word. He'd read it before, certainly, but he couldn't remember where.

"In the Capitol," Ryder explained, "If you don't have kids, you can have someone else's... if that someone else doesn't want them. It's called adoption. Anise and I, we, we want a kid more than we want anything."

Gale's lips found the words before his bring could catch up, "I want a world where you can have one."

"Thanks," was all Ryder could say. Gale wasn't sure if his answer was sufficient, but before he could wonder about it too long, it came time for speeches.

In this too, Gale went first. He talked briefly about his life growing up in 12, the nightmare that was the rebellion, and finally the peace he found with Madge, and Maysilee. He explained that even through their struggles, each day, their lives got better, their family stronger. He tried to liken this to the new government Panem was building - it wouldn't always be perfect, but that each day, things would get better.

Madge went next, reading an entry she had written in her diary when she was at the home for unwed mothers in District 2, about the fear and the helplessness she'd felt. She concluded by saying that she wasn't - that no one was helpless anymore.

Annie and Johanna spoke together, talking of the changing ocean tides, the way a change in the tide could mean a change in the weather, in the fishing, in the lives of those affected by the tide. They knew, being seafarers, the way that the air felt before the changing of a tide, and they said, without a doubt, that they could feel the tide about to change. They encouraged everyone to be a part of that change.

Finally, Peeta and Katniss, rather than following up the way they usually would with more serious, heartfelt stories, took a different route. They worked with Finn and Maysilee to show that "Voting was so easy, a child could do it!"

Gale hadn't expected such a humorous presentation, and initially was annoyed, until he heard the crowd cheering and laughing along with their performance. Finally, after explaining where to get ballots, how to mark them, and where to turn them in, Katniss and the kids took a bow, and Peeta took a few more minutes to explain some addition voting rules.

If you were old enough to be reaped, you were old enough to vote, you could only vote for one District Representative, even though the top two would represent the District, and so on. Then he introduced the handful of candidates, including Ryder, who would be running. They would not be making speeches but they would be walking around the party and available for questions.

Then the party really began.

There was plenty of mingling, talking, answering questions, meeting strangers, but mostly, the citizens of District 1 were interested in Gale, Madge, Maysilee, Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Annie, and the kids as sort of... works of art. Touching them, taking photos with them, and making them sign autographs on all sorts of things, but mostly their bodies.

Madge gave Gale an especially pointed look when two young women - girls, more like - approached him wearing nothing but sparkles and jewelry, and, as they had been warned, kissed him full on the mouth. Then they went on the marvel over his chest, his back, and any other part of him which was exposed in his garish costume. Finally, they asked him to sign their breasts and hugged him a final time before disappearing back into the crowd.

He turned back to his wife, flustered and apologetic, but she was simply covering Maysilee's eyes and shaking her head. Madge was considerably less angry when the same pair of girls approached Peeta and gave him the same treatment, which left her giggling and Katniss fuming.

Everyone was surprised at the attention Johanna and Annie got, as they were often overlooked as a pair. Gale noted, after a while, how many couples at this party seemed to be of the same sex, and wondered if Ryder wasn't the only one in District 1 to be interested in adoption.

By the end of the night, all of them were sweaty, hot, and sore - not to mention 'peopled-out' as Maysilee liked to call it - for about a lifetime. But, as they had been reminded by Plutarch too many times, "the show must go on."

Tomorrow, and the rest of their week in District 1 would set the tone for the entire tour, and so they would have to be on their best behavior, putting their best foot forward, no matter if they felt tired or not. Gale tried to keep this in mind as he and Madge finally trudged their way into the hotel lobby behind Johanna and Annie and one of the attendants stopped them for 'just one picture' that turned into a 30 minute photo session.

Gale and Madge tucked an already-unconscious Maysilee into bed and quietly began their own pre-bed routine. Madge carefully undid her hair and braided it over her shoulder. Gale gathered everyone's clothes and put them neatly back into their trunk. He pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder and offered out her nightgown. Just as their lips brushed in a sweet, sleepy kiss, a strange sound came from through the wall.

They froze for a moment, agreeing silently that they weren't sure what that had been.

They waited.

The sound again.

"What?" Whispered Madge, as she took a few careful steps closer to the wall as the small sound happened again.

"It sounds like someone's hurt," Gale whispered back, following her, every sense heightened in case of danger.

Then, a different sound, all the way from the other side of the room. They both looked immediately to Maysilee, but she was fast asleep.

Just as Gale was considering going out into the hallway to investigate, it became _very_clear exactly what it was they were hearing.

It was the same, quiet noise, "Mmmm," and then, "Peeta."

Gale enjoyed the bright blush that spread over Madge's cheeks. It felt like it had been so long since they had smiled at one another, been happy together.

From the other wall, Gale managed to translate another noise as Johanna growling.

"Oh my," Madge giggled as she laced her fingers with his, "we seem to be behind the times."

Then, if they weren't entirely convinced about what was going on, there was a sound that could only be Annie, moaning high in her throat; a sound that conveyed nothing but complete satisfaction.

"Yes, we must have missed our cue," Gale said with a smirk, as he led her away from the wall.

They cast a glance at Maysilee who didn't stir as Katniss and Peeta called out the other's names back and forth, and back and forth again. On the other side of them, Annie was practically singing. She seemed to pay no mind to the sound she was making, and nor did Johanna, because they were only getting louder.

Gale licked his lips, and slipped a hand under Madge's nightdress, pulling it effortlessly over her head in a single sweep. She shook out her hair and tilted her hips teasingly, "Well, Mr. Hawthorne, shall we make our grand entrance?"

Gale took her in, her golden hair tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with a playful challenge, her porcelain body's curves and valleys gleaming in the moonlight. He suddenly found he was more than ready to make an entrance.

Instead of answering, he swept her off her feet and tossed her onto the bed, which she celebrated with a loud, happy squeal.

They kissed, and soon, the sounds of their passion joined those made by the others. They probably, by the strange standards of the District, considered to be a symphony of intertwining bodies and sounds.

It seemed a fitting way to end their first night in District 1.


	6. Leaving District 1 Behind

**CHAPTER 6: Leaving District 1 Behind**

Their first week of the tour, spent in District 1, was amazing. Costume-filled, overly-social, and far too busy for Katniss's taste, but amazing nonetheless. She saw a District united, transformed by a new purpose, and bringing to life the ideas they had fought so hard to protect.

Katniss had enjoyed the food, and the music, but nothing more than the announcement at the end of the week of the District's Representatives, whom the citizens had voted for midweek as one of many politically centered festivities.

Ryder, with whom Gale and Madge seemed to have some sort of bond was selected as the male representative from the District. The woman who was selected was quite a bit younger, with chocolate colored skin and a shocking mess of blonde curls so tight that they stuck out from her head in all directions. Her name was Jem.

Jem and Ryder were the first District Representatives to be selected as part of the new system of government in Panem, and Katniss couldn't be more proud that she had been a part of the team that ensured each interested party the right and the know-how to choose them.

The representative election had been Tuesday, 2 days after their arrival in the District and the first night of costumes, parties, and with a blush, she remembered, amazing sex with her husband Peeta.

She wasn't sure whether it was the sheer elation at being a part of something bigger than themselves that didn't center around violence, the joy of being newly married for real this time, or a combination of the two that seemed to light their bodies ablaze for each other. Whatever the reason, sleep had evaded them that week, replaced with long nights of passion.

Not just for Peeta and her, though. The walls in their hotel couldn't quite contain the sounds made by their fellow Voting-Tour Coordinators, as their official titles proclaimed them. Gale and Madge, and Annie and Johanna too, spent their week love drunk, high off of the sheer joy of making a positive difference to the people of such a thriving, creative, and beautiful District.

Poor Haymitch spent the week trying to be the Effie they didn't have: banging on their doors in the early morning, pulling a crumpled itinerary out of his pocket, and sending them to bed at the end of each night, grumbling about keeping on schedule. She wondered if it was because he missed her, or simply because he was too sick, too sober, or too lonely to sleep.

Even without the almost intoxicating sense of love in the air, their week was full. After the election Tuesday, Wednesday there was a seminar detailing how the Presidential election would work. People had a lot of questions about the Candidates, but since Katniss hadn't met them yet, in fact, no one in her group of the tour had, all they could do was give each candidate's name and District.

There was an ex-career from District 2 named Decima Mento, a quiet and calculating transportations supervisor from 6, named Harley Coen, Miles Graham, a man whose name Katniss could remember from District 13, but nothing else, and a Capitol woman named Abundantia Luxx.

These candidates were selected through a long application process that was filtered through the the higher ups in the government of District 13 as well as some of the Government and Military officials left in the Districts. The candidates had to list their qualifications and experiences with government and being a leader. In addition they had to submit detailed plans and ideas for the future of Panem. Out of the original 50 or so applications, these 4 were selected for the position of Presidential Candidate.

She wondered if they would get to meet the Candidates, whom she knew to be in the Capitol, working with teams on their image, their ideas, and their public presentation of themselves on their tour. Perhaps when they arrived back in the Capitol for the Presidential portion? For now, she knew it best to focus on the task at hand, get the Representatives of each District elected and get the Citizens educated and excited about the process.

Thursday the winning Representatives from District 1 were announced, another great party held in their honor. Luckily, Peeta, Katniss, Gale, Madge, Annie, and Johanna got to skip the speeches for this one. Instead, Ryder and Jem gave long and involved speeches accepting their new positions, and acknowledging the value of the trust their District placed in them, promising they wouldn't let their fellow citizens down.

Friday finally came, and it was time to say goodbye to District 1 and move on to the next step in their tour. Katniss felt in a daze. The week had gone by like an afternoon on a fall day, so quickly, she barely even noticed. She was left with a sort of lingering, satisfied feeling of warmth, and the feeling of being important... and of being loved, desirable.

She reached for Peeta's hand, gripping it tightly, and waving with her other hand as they stood on the platform at the train station, bidding farewell to the sea of admirers who were still showering them with flowers and gifts, even as they were stepping onto the train to leave. Katniss peaked over at Peeta, morning sunlight playing across his handsome face, highlighting patterns in his soft blonde hair. His smile, wide and bright, brought a flush of happiness to Katniss's cheeks.

Truly... this was more than she could have hoped for for the first week in the Voting Tour, which she had been catatonically nervous for.

She felt so confident, so secure about the way the tour was going that she almost felt embarrassed by her anxiety at the beginning of the trip, the way she'd made Haymitch and Peeta worry. Now as she sat with her head leaning on Haymitch's shoulder and her hand intertwined with Peeta's watching District 1 disappear in a tiny sprawl of shapes and colors, she couldn't even begin to imagine what she had been so nervous about.

Maybe that's why the next conversation with Plutarch, Cressida, Soleila, and Pollux, her new prep team of sorts, hit her so hard. She had been unprepared for any problematic news, so when Plutarch suggested, no, informed them, that they would be splitting up for the remainder of the tour, Katniss encountered it like a sucker punch in the stomach.

"What?" She stammered, clinging suddenly to Peeta and Haymitch.

Cressida shot a look to Plutarch, who was not known for his tact, and continued in a softer voice, "There's been some complication. You see... There was an attack..."

Katniss's heart leapt into her throat. All around her, Gale, Madge, Johanna, Annie, and Peeta stiffened. Her allies, so close at her fingertips, an attack felt like something they could handle, but didn't Plutarch just say he'd be tearing them away from her? Her heart quickened. _No. No. I will not be alone. I will not let them do this to me. _She swallowed her panic, hard.

It was Gale who found his voice first, throwing caution to the wind by letting his temper go full swing. "What do you mean there's been an attack?" He was on his feet and pacing.

"It- Well," Cressida stammered.

Soleila surprised them by answering Gale, unabashed, "On a train transporting the Presidential Candidate from the Capitol, Abundantia Luxx." Soleila's strange gold eyes were serious as she said, "She's alright, but the train was filled with supplies for the Districts which she had been planning to deliver as a part of her personal Presidential Candidate tour and... They were all blown to bits, as well as a few train attendants..."

"People... _died_?" Annie's voice was small.

"Yes." Cressida nodded, grimly.

"That's why we want to split you up!" Plutarch jumped right in, voice cheery as always. "It will get the tour over with a little faster, and you'll be safer if you're not all in one place! The party responsible can't go after all of you at once, and-"

"You didn't catch them?" Peeta's voice was brave, but Katniss could feel his hand in hers, trembling.

"No," Plutarch tried to glaze it over, "But we've got a great team on it. No reason to derail the whole tour. Especially since we don't know whether the target was the candidate herself, or simply her supplies-"

"If they were just looters, why would they blow up what they were trying to take?" Joanna's voice was as sharp as the blade of one of her axes. She had followed Gale in rising to her feet, stepping instinctively in front of Annie and Finn.

Katniss kept quiet as the arguments mounted. Gale and Johanna insisted they be transferred immediately to hunt down those responsible, Annie and Madge clutched Finn and Maysilee, insisting that the children be sent somewhere safe, and Peeta asked question after question. Everyone kept talking over one another, only worsening the situation.

Except Katniss and Haymitch. They were silent as a grave, doing what they do best, trying to think their way out.

Plutarch and Cressida were trying their best to field the questions, and maintain a sense of calm and order. Katniss felt removed from the whole thing. She was silent, barely breathing, just letting the words wash over her. She looked to Haymitch.

His face was chiseled; a statue. He too, barely seemed to be breathing. If she could only see something, a flicker of recognition, a sign from him that this was right, she could relax. His silence only served to further unsettle her.

Finally, Plutarch lost his patience. His voice became hard. "You've all signed contracts. Really, you don't have a choice."

Madge was beside herself, "Please, be reasonable."

Plutarch was done with their petty arguments, clearly. "You be reasonable. This tour must go on."

Before another argument could fall flat, Haymitch finally spoke. "He's right. He's not saying it right, but he's right." He paused, giving everyone time to settle. "It's not about our contracts. But, you saw what we did for the people in District 1. The nation needs us. Every District, every single one, needs us. You know we can't just do it when it's easy. At least, you did know that. Every one of you gave something up before. It's no different now."

Gale was the only one to attempt an argument. "I would have done anything to protect Maysilee if I would have known-"

"The best thing you can do, Gale," Katniss found herself speaking. Jumping on Haymitch's sentiment, caught up in his words. She got to her feet and found Gale's indignant face. "Is continue the tour. Make a safe future for her. Help others make a safe future for her."

"That's easy for you to say, Catnip!" His use of her nickname was not endearing, but rather, cutting, bitter. Katniss braced herself as he got to his feet and started toward her. "You've got no one left to lose. Not anyone who can't protect themselves." He shot an apologetic glance at Peeta before barreling into Katniss, shoulder first, hard.

Before Katniss knew what was happening, Gale had knocked her to the floor. He was on top of her, striking at her, screaming terrible things about Prim, and her father, and Finnick, and Boggs and how in the end, it was her fault they were dead, and that he would be living in the Capitol before he took advice from her on how to protect his loved ones.

And she was no better. She was screaming back at him, kicking at him, and trying to hurt him back the way that he had hurt her. Which was ultimately impossible, since she couldn't do so without killing Posey. Suddenly, it hit her that she had gone all this time without thinking about the bomb that killed Prim - the one Gale built.

She hadn't forgiven him. She had just made herself forget somehow.

She wouldn't forgive him.

Peeta dragged Gale off of her, neither of them had suffered much damage, physically, but from their faces, it was evident that both of them were furious in a way they hadn't been in a long time. Katniss knew, though, that Gale's rage didn't have anything to do with her. He was angry at his situation, scared for his family.

Her rage, on the other hand, was unquestionably linked to him. Shamelessly directed at him, plain for everyone to see. How had she forgotten-

Without further thought, she spat the words, "I'm fine splitting up."

She brushed past Gale with her shoulder, hard, as she left the car, which had become stifling. "Anything to get away from him."


	7. Threads

Chapter 7: Threads

Madge lay in the darkness, cuddled into her blankets, relishing her last few minutes alone before she would have to wake and dress and enter yet another District on her Tour. Not far from her she could hear Annie Cresta, her Voting Tour Partner in Crime taking slow, shallow breaths. She wasn't asleep either.

The two women had been given different compartments, but each was so lonely without their child that they opted to share one after their first few late night talks over sleepy time tea that lead to one falling asleep in the other's bed anyway.

Madge hoped it wouldn't upset Joanna. She wasn't sure how it worked when both of you were women in a relationship. Was it the same as Gale sharing a bed with another woman? Annie didn't seem concerned though, and there was nothing beyond companionship between Annie and her anyway.

The tour so far had been so different from how she anticipated. First, there was the week they spent in District 1, so filled with beauty, and love and positivity, then the news of the train bombing and the fight between Katniss and Gale, and then – this. This strange monotony, day in day out filled with empty smiles, thousands of new faces, and her mish mosh of a traveling group. Madge, Annie, and Haymitch were travelling together.

It had been explained to her, of course. They split the Voting Education Coordinators up, not by what would make them happy, but by what would make the audiences happy. The first group to be chosen was Gale and Peeta. Gale was warlike, Peeta was a national symbol of unconditional love. They were two people who had been at odds in the old world, and were friends in the new one. Their duality made them the perfect net, catching citizens on all sides – those who liked words, and those who liked action. And of course, those who liked kids. Gale and Peeta took Maysilee with them.

Casting her aside, which seemed to be the thing Gale was excellent at these days, he took Maysilee so that he could protect her should anything go wrong. As much as it left Madge feeling lonely, at least she didn't have to worry. Gale would do a much better job of protecting Maysilee if something should happen than Madge would. In addition, having Maysilee along might be the only way Gale doesn't lose himself completely on this Tour. Madge could handle it – could handle loneliness. Gale needed Maysilee.

Madge could hear the creaking of the train wheels as they started to slow. They must be entering District 8. It was well before dawn, but they had a big day ahead of them. She wondered when Haymitch might come shambling to the door, grumbling that it was time to get up.

She felt worse for him than for herself. The poor District 12 Mentor had come to care for Katniss and Peeta, whom anyone could see the man considered to be his family. Now he was paired with neither of them, shuffling along with Madge and Annie, the moms. While she supposed that between the three of them, they did cast a wide net of appeal, Madge was pretty certain that they were paired up arbitrarily.

Besides Peeta, Gale, and Maysilee, and their mis-matched group, their was the 'Star Squad' of the Voting Tour, Joanna, Katniss, and Finn. Alongside a group like that, Madge, Annie, and Haymitch didn't stand a chance. She longed for her family, but was glad to have Annie, a sort of kindred spirit along to relate to.

Madge didn't even mind Haymitch, really.

His sharp wit could be a bit cutting at times, but at others seems perfectly timed. He was incredibly smart, but not unfeeling. Madge wondered if everyone from the Seam put up such defenses, as she could see parts of Katniss in Haymitch, and parts of her own, Gale, as well. Haymitch was nice to have around when what Madge needed at the end of the day was as stiff drink and a laugh, rather than tea and tears.

Annie was doing better than Madge would have anticipated, but wished she had Joanna around to translate sometimes. During the middle of a perfectly normal conversation, Annie would trail off and talk about the sea, and Finnick, and the Games, and a million other things Madge knew nothing about.

They were a lucky pair though, seeing as their first District after 1 was 2, and after that, 4. visiting their home Districts was comforting in this time of turmoil, both for them and the citizens with whom they shared citizenship. In District 2, they were warmly greeted and the Tour was a continued success – though in a quieter way than in District 1, representatives were selected, feasts were had, and Haymitch turned out to be a mighty decent dancing partner.

In District 4, things were a bit more difficult. Not that the citizens weren't receptive to them and their message, but rather, that people were more wary of the new government. The militant District 2, who had a candidate in the running for President were thrilled at the news of the bomb – taking resistance as a sign that change was being made. They were taught everything they know by the Capitol, after all.

District 4, however, had learned from the Sea, where resistance meant that you were doing something against the current, and the currents were as good as law. They asked a million questions about the bombing to which Madge and Annie had no answers. It was Haymitch, in the end, who saved them, stepping in and fielding the questions diplomatically, but honestly. They managed to elect District representatives, and Madge finally got to see the ocean, but it was bittersweet. She had wanted to see it alongside her husband and daughter.

Then they had left the warm, sunny District behind. It had been 2 weeks since she saw Gale, and him being himself, there had been no letters, no phone calls, no word. Joanna had bullied him onto the phone one night when she was talking with Annie, who had passed off the phone to Madge. The conversation had been short.

"What District you in?" He didn't even bother to use a complete sentence.

"4."

"Ah. Good."

"What, uh- District are you in, Gale?"

"Hm?" A Pause. "Oh. 6. Because of Peeta, in the Quell, I think."

"Because of-?"

"The Morphlings. Lots of those here."

"Oh. Is Maysilee alright?"

"Fine. Misses you."

"I miss her too. And you."

"Yes. Well. I should go."

Not exactly the conversation she had been hoping for, but it was still nice to hear his voice. Gale had never been good on the phone. She was jealous at how it seemed Joanna and Annie could talk for hours. Madge had tried to call Gale when she was in 2, but got Peeta instead. They had talked for hours. Go figure. Merchants talk more than Seam folk do. Not much to say in the coal mine when you're shouting over the noise, she supposed.

No more attacks had occurred since the first, but security in the train stations was heightened, Madge noticed. Even their own personal luggage, which had been searched and searched again would be searched yet again today when-

There was a quiet knocking on the door.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauties, we've got a big big big day." Haymitch always said this rather uncharacteristic phrase in an especially surly voice. Madge couldn't be sure, but she thought it might be a leftover from his previous travelling companion, Peeta and Katniss's escort, Effie Trinket.

She and Annie rose and gave each other a weak, 'good morning' before going their separate ways to prepare for the day. Madge had showered the night before, but water seemed to really help Annie come into the present each day, so she went off for her morning shower. Ever since the night they'd played 'I've Never,' Annie sang in the shower every morning. Sea songs. Love songs. Finnick's songs.

Madge brushed out her hair, put on a bit of make up, and dressed in the clothing that had been sent her way by Soleila, who must be tearing her hair trying to manage the style of the Tour since it broke up. She was stuck with the boys, Peeta and Gale, and was sure to be getting her share of abuse from the latter. Plutarch and Cressida were with the Star Squad – perhaps just to ensure that they behave, and Pollux, the kind and solitary Avox was with their group. This further proved to Madge that their group was an afterthought, a mix of the people in the tour that didn't fit in the other groups.

In District 8, the fabric from which your clothing was made was as important as the clothing itself. They had learned all sorts of fabric metaphors for their speeches in order to really seem 'in the know' in the industrial District. Madge's outfit for the day was a strapless jewel toned dress that came to her knees, with a layer of sheer lace ruffled over the top. Paired with a sweater and flat shoes, she felt more comfortable than she had anticipated to. She supposed that District 8 was known for fabric, not for fashion.

She pulled her hair into a low side ponytail and tied it with a ribbon. She tried to smile. She gave herself a mental boost, thinking that Gale would find her very pretty in this outfit. Sometimes she waited for Annie, but today she made her way to the breakfast car without her. She might be a while in the shower. Leaving District 2, which had been warm and wet, for this bone dry, frigid District filled with factories and smoke and grey would be difficult for Annie, for all of them.

Madge entered the dining car to find Pollux and Haymitch already seated. Haymitch was eating dry toast – which seemed to be about all he could manage these days. Pollux was drinking some kind of smoothie mix. Eating seemed hard for him, without a tongue, and Madge supposed he couldn't taste anyway, without a tongue. The thought made her shudder, and she paused in the doorway.

The two men turn their heads towards her where she stood, and Pollux gave a welcoming smile. Madge sat, and busied herself pouring juice and coffee, not just for herself but for Haymitch as well. Peeta had asked her, during their phone call to keep an eye on him. Madge was no healer, but knew you could never seem to drink enough fluids when you were ill.

Madge sipped her beverages in silence for a few minutes before Haymitch piped up, which was surprising. He was usually quiet in the mornings.

"Gale tells me you've got a friend in this District."

"What?" Madge was confused. Both by Haymitch's statement and his source. "You talked to Gale?"

"Didn't you?" Haymitch raised an eyebrow. "Peeta's been on the phone with me every few days, sometimes I talk to your husband too. Trying to strategize within each District."

Madge dropped her eyes from Haymitch, not wanting to betray her anger to him. It wasn't his fault her husband had the emotional sensitivity of a brick wall. Haymitch paused, probably waiting for her to respond. She kept her mouth shut.

"Anyway, he says you've got a friend here. Might be worth meeting up with him to try to get a feel for the District. I've never understood these factory types myself," Haymitch was polite enough not to ask about her lack of contact with Gale, but still couldn't imagine who Gale might be talking about.

"He must be mistaken. Did he think we were in 10 already?" Their last stop in the Tour before the Capitol of course, would be District 10. Caridee and Gentry no longer lived there, but would provide insight if needed. District 8 however, Gale had friends here, from the Rebellion, but not Madge. She mustered up her courage and raised her head to look at Haymitch.

"Nope. He knows we're in 8." Haymitch was eyeing her, carefully. He sipped at his juice without breaking his gaze. "Says there's some fella here." He waited for Madge to react. Then, added, "Didn't say it so politely though."

Suddenly, Madge understood exactly who Gale had told Haymitch about, and flushed bright red. "Oh." Her face felt warm, and she resisted the urge to touch it. She didn't feel like drawing attention to her embarrassment. "Yes. Him."

Haymitch tilted his head, curiously. He took a more comfortable sip of juice and settle back in his chair. "So, who is the 'friend' of yours, Madge?"

The way he said, 'friend' let her know that he had some idea. It wouldn't take much, Gale hated Serger, and Haymitch was an astute man. Madge cleared her throat, uncomfortably.

"Yes, well… Serger. I knew him in 2. His daughter went to Maysilee's daycare."

"Okay," Haymitch said, too lightly.

"I don't really know if he ever moved back to 8 or not. I haven't seen him since…," She trailed off. "In a long time."

The rest of breakfast was spent in silence, save for when Annie came in wearing a deep sea green dress that clung to her tiny body, paired with knit tights and knee high boots, hair floated around her pale face, humming softly. Even as she hummed, everyone else stayed quiet, not that it bothered Annie one bit.

Madge on the other hand could have used some distraction. At the mention of Serger, she found she couldn't stop thinking about him: his smooth skin the color of coffee with cream in it, his brilliant green eyes, his dark, short hair. His easy smile, his comforting hugs… shit. Shit. Shit. She shouldn't be thinking this way, was in fact, only thinking this way because she was so angry at Gale and so lonely.

She found herself hoping the Serger had not moved back to 8, and that there was no chance she would see him.

After their things were sorted and they were allowed off the train, they stepped onto the platform and gave the customary press session waving at the camera, posing for photos, and good naturedly spouting off like quips that they pretended were spontaneous, but in truth were scripted and worked out in advance. It was chilly today, though, so the session, which normally lasted about an hour, had wrapped up in about 35 minutes.

As the train attendants approached them with their suitcases, which had been searched and repacked for them, Madge caught sight of him, strolling up the platform towards them. The breath was sucked from her open mouth by a gust of wind, and she was too stunned to inhale again.

A handsome coat stretched, perfectly tailored, across his broad chest, sweeping down around his knees. His long legs, clad in fitted grey slacks, took measured, deliberate strides. His face broke into one of his winning smiles as he caught sight of her, and he raised a hand to wave a greeting.

Madge stood, frozen, watching him approach.

The others noticed her stillness and his approach almost simultaneously. As he reached them, Haymitch nudged Madge, inspiring her to look in his direction, away from the figure approaching them. He gave her a pointed look. In return, she closed her mouth.

She held his eye contact for as long as she could get away with, but her upbringing had been strict, and when the approaching man got within a few steps, she whipped her head in his direction, preparing for a handshake or a kiss on the cheek.

Instead, she found herself swept into a passionate and lingering hug. His arms wrapped so tightly around her she lost her breath for the second time in about 30 seconds. One arm had her around the small of her back, the other cradling her head, tangled in her blonde curls. He buried his face in her neck and she could feel his nose nuzzling against her, breathing her in, and sending shivers down her spine. She found herself clutching him back. Taking fistfuls of his coat in her hands and pulling herself tighter to him.

She smelled him, and his familiar scent, savory like thyme and herbs came flooding back to her. In a flood she remembered the long nights she'd spent with this man, the errands ran, the play dates, the conversations, the kisses. All of it.

The words came out in desperate whisper, and she knew them to be a mistake as soon as they were uttered, "I missed you."

"Madge fucking Undersee." He released her. "Where have you been all my life?"

It wasn't until he put her at arms length that she realized how wrong this was. Seeing the stunned faced of Annie and Pollux and the disapproving look Haymitch hadn't stopped wearing since he first mentioned her 'friend' in 8 this morning reminded her: Maysilee. Gale. The Voting Education Tour. These were the reasons she was here.

"Madge fucking Hawthorne, actually." She offered weakly. After a week in 4, swearing came a bit too easily, and she blushed, despite herself.

The man, still grinning smacked his forehead good-naturedly. "Of, course, I'd heard that I think. Congratulations."

Madge was confused. Of course he'd heard it. Montage sequences from their wedding were broadcast everywhere as part of the Tour Promos. Why was he playing dumb? Before she could consider too much, however, he turned away from her, and introduced himself to her travelling companions, "Good day. I'm your District Ambassador, Serger. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

Madge winced.

She had hoped, for one fleeting second that Serger was not a part of the tour at all, but had come just to say hi, since he would know that she'd be at the station that morning as a part of the tour. With this being the case, she could have said hi, told him she was far too busy with tour activities to socialize, and that would be that. Of course, now she knew that for the next week, she would see Serger who was their District Ambassador, Serger who was handsome and kind and there for her, every single day this week.

As they started the journey to their hotel, Serger babbled on to Haymitch and Annie and Pollux about the week's agenda, but Madge was miles away. She tried to turn her thoughts toward Gale, and found it difficult to remember his face.


	8. Telephone

CHAPTER 8: Telephone

_I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts._

_I can't sleep without you. I can barely breathe without you._

Those were the words that Gale had wanted to say to Madge on the phone when he was in 6, but he couldn't.

Saying things like that out loud meant that someone could use them against you. Whoever planted that bomb, whoever was against the election that the Victory Tour was helping to happen. Somehow they would hear him, and they would kill Madge. This was the fear that kept Gale up at night, distracted him during the day; this was the fear that had driven him to the edge of madness.

They would intercept his letters, they would bug his phones, they would learn how much he loved Madge, how much he needed her, and they would kill her. They would kill her and Gale would be left alone with Maysilee.

He wasn't strong like Madge – he could never do what she did: raise Maysilee alone. He was an incomplete person without her. Who was he kidding, he was an incomplete person with her; she just found a way to make it okay.

He knew he would never find his way without her. Without her he was a terrible father and a terrible man. He hated this tour. He knew it was necessary, but was it really necessary for him? He wasn't a puppet like Katniss and Peeta and even Joanna. He was a soldier. He should be fighting. If there was a threat, he should be fighting, not talking.

He knew that his being cold like this hurt Madge. It was better that she be hurt than dead. He had thought about trying to send her a message through Peeta or Haymitch, but the threat of it being overheard was the same. He hoped, in the long hours of the night when he felt the most alone, that she could somehow sense how much he loved her and how afraid he was. He hoped that she could believe in him, the way she promised she would.

He hoped she didn't believe in Serger more. It was idiotic of him to send her to him in 8 when it was just going to drive him even more crazy, but he wanted to know there was someone there for her, there with her in case something happened. That sickly old mentor, and Annie, delicate as she was would have exactly zero chances of protecting Madge if something were to happen. Pollux may be alright, depending on the situation. He had survived the Rebellion, hadn't he?

But Serger, Gale had met him. He had the air of a soldier about him. He was strong, quick on his feet, and, thought it had enraged Gale before, Serger cared about Madge. Gale just wanted her to have someone, anyone to turn to in case of an emergency. He couldn't be sure, but as they got closer to the end of the tour, he felt a sense of impending dread – this mysterious group who'd bombed the train hadn't tried anything else. They were waiting… for something. Gale just hoped it wouldn't happen until he was back in the same place as his wife.

His thoughts were interrupted by Peeta – who seemed to sense exactly when Gale was about to get completely stuck in his head, perhaps from years of dealing Katniss in the same fashion.

"Gale," Peeta's voice, careful, from the doorway. "We're pulling into 12, now."

It was early, somewhere around 4 o'clock in the morning. Gale was in his compartment on the train, in his bed. He was here because Maysilee needed to sleep and they shared a compartment, not because he, himself, was able to sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep more than an hour or two for days, since their group split… since Madge left his side. He was so afraid that the call would come in the night, that she was dead, and that would be it.

He wasn't sure how being awake would help. It was as if he was convinced that if he was awake, that at least it wouldn't come as a surprise. That if she left his world, even though she was miles away, he would feel it. Or maybe if she was injured, he could will her to hang on until he could get to her. He didn't want to be asleep if that call came.

He hated the people running the tour, Plutarch, Cressida, all of them. How dare they split up his family? It was bad enough he had to be on this tour when his talents could be so better applied elsewhere, but now he couldn't even protect his loved ones if something happened. He had Maysilee, at least. He couldn't imagine what he would have done had they split him from his daughter; He'd have killed them, maybe.

Soleila, the idiot girl who was responsible for dressing them insisted that it was best to split the couples, then, in case one family or another was targeted; they couldn't go after all of them at once. She didn't know that. No one did, besides maybe Plutarch. They were being kept in the dark about who attacked, and why, and the size of their forces. Perhaps they could launch multiple attacks at the same time, and then what? Then it wouldn't matter, he supposed. Then maybe he would be dead, and Madge, and Maysilee.

"Daddy?" Maysilee's tiny voice reached him from under a pile of blankets. They had separate beds in the compartment, but after his first few nightmares, Maysilee had insisted to stay in his bed with him, to protect him, the way that he and Madge did when she had nightmares. Her innocent proposal to protect him had actually brought him to tears. This morning, just the sound of her tiny voice did the same.

He reached out for her in the darkness and gathered her to him, quilts and all. She was, quite possibly, the only thing keeping him hanging onto his sanity, to reality. "What's going on, Daddy?"

"We're in 12, Maysilee," Gale whispered into his daughter's hair, fighting to keep the sound of tears from his voice.

"Oh, 12, where you and Momma got married?" Maysilee sounded excited.

"Yeah, sweetheart." Gale's voice was rough, but Maysilee didn't seem to notice.

"Are we meeting back up with Momma?" Maysilee asked, trying not to sound too anxious. She had asked this question every District they had been to so far, both 6, and 9.

"Nope. Not yet." Gale breathed. He hated letting her down this way.

"Then when?"

"We're halfway there," Gale smiled, realizing for the first time, that they were, in fact. They had only 2 more weeks, 2 more Districts before they would reunite in the Capitol. The thought actually brought him some genuine happiness, and he smiled. His cheeks felt stiff. He hadn't smiled in 2 weeks, after all.

"Halfway, but-," This news had the opposite effect on Maysilee. He could hear the tantrum in her voice as she wailed, "But it's already been forever."

Gale sat up, keeping Maysilee swaddled close to him, stroking her hair and soothing her, "I know Maysilee. I miss her too, but- "

"Why don't we talk to Mom on the phone?"

Gale was surprised. Maysilee had been so good the past 2 weeks. She had accepted his answer and let it go each and every time he'd said that it would be later. His poor daughter must be reaching her limits, as he was. This Tour was going to be a great deal of stress with both her parents present, and now she only had the broken one.

Maysilee continued berating him, "Peeta talks to Katniss on the phone and he tells her he misses her!"

"I know but, they're different from us-" Gale tried, weakly.

"Momma's not gonna come back if she doesn't know that we miss her."

Gale had no words. She had spoken one of his deepest, and admittedly, most childish, fears. The logical part of him knew that if Madge hadn't left him yet for his emotional limitations, she probably never would, but today, the logical part of him was so quiet. It was silent, in fact.

"We can call Mom," Gale's voice quivered.

"Really?" Maysilee's tears dried instantly, and Gale realized he had just been manipulated by Maysilee and her crocodile tears. He was too exhausted to be angry. He wished Maysilee would be direct with him like she was with Madge, but since he was bad at communicating, Maysilee had learned to communicate with him his way – badly.

Maysilee sprung from his arms to go join Peeta, wherever he was on the train. He would be awake, not just because they were pulling into a new District, but rather, because he couldn't sleep any better than Gale could. Maysilee liked him, though, for the same reason Gale did, because he was like Madge – kind, and talkative. Peeta didn't show his exhaustion the same way Gale did.

Gale could feel the train stopping, and his stomach tightened. He hadn't felt so alone in a very long time, as he sat in the dark compartment, clutching the quilts which lent him only his daughter's lingering warmth for company.

So they would call Madge.

Gale already knew he wouldn't say what he wanted to. Maybe the gesture would be enough to keep Madge hanging on.

When he had splashed water on his face, and dressed in his own clothes – they were in their home District, so no costumes necessary – he entered the dining car where Maysilee was chatting animatedly with Peeta. Maysilee's very presence seemed to sustain Peeta in a way that told Gale that he would be an excellent father someday. He was understanding, patient, and loving: pretty much all of the qualities it took to deal with a spouse from the Seam.

Peeta noticed him entering and offered him a smile.

"Good morning, Gale."

"Good morning."

He and Peeta had, surprisingly, been great allies to each other, even after Katniss's outburst, even after Gale's attack on her, and even though there could very well be a lingering hatred between them, there just wasn't.

Peeta had already prepared his coffee for him, the way Madge always did, and it was sitting in front of a plate of food that Peeta had dished up for him. Gale mouthed, thank you, and Peeta nodded. Then Gale sat and they both turned their attention to Maysilee, who was regaling them with her account of her previous night's dream.

"And then Finn, he had a bill like a duck and when he tried to talk he could just quack!" She finished with a flourish, as if this was the most amazing dream that anyone had ever had.

"Wow, Maysilee," Peeta encouraged, "That's quite the imagination you have. When the tour's over, you should come paint with me sometime; put some of your dreams on paper."

"Daddy, could I?"Maysilee gasped, her eyes wide with joy.

"Of course," Gale smiled at her, but it was unlike the smile that had hurt his cheeks in the dark – it was false. Empty. "After Peeta was so nice to Daddy on this tour, I probably owe him one."

His eyes met Peeta's again. The man's blue eyes were benevolent. He wasn't sure whether Peeta was trying to take care of him for Katniss, for Madge, or possible because he wanted to, but Gale wanted him to know that it was appreciated.

"Can we call Mommy now?" Maysilee continued without skipping a beat, as if she hadn't just changed the subject completely from her amazing dreams.

"It's pretty early…" Peeta started for him, knowing of his deep paranoia regarding speaking with Madge on the phone.

"It's alright." Gale cut him off as politely as he could. "I said we could call Madge today." He explained to Peeta's careful expression.

"Okay, well, it is early-" Peeta seemed hesitant, trying to gauge whether or not Gale wanted to be stopped.

"If we wait there might not be time," Gale said, resigned. "Since we are in 12, we will probably have people who want to see us outside of the regular tour activities."

"That's a good point," the tone in Peeta's voice changed. He was all in support of the idea now.

Gale reached for the phone and dialed the number Haymitch had given him for their living arrangements in District 8. He handed the phone to Maysilee.

"You talk to her first," he smiled another empty smile for his daughter. "She'll be more excited to hear from you." This, of course, was not true. She had spoken with Maysilee more recently than with him, but he needed to collect himself a little more before he heard her voice. He knew how badly it would make him hurt.

Maysilee waited, the phone in both her tiny hands as it rang – Gale could just barely hear the sound coming from the speaker by his daughter's ear. There was a click.

"Momma!" Maysilee shouted before whoever on the other end of the phone could speak.

"Maysilee, is that you?" The voice that answered was not his wife's, was not even that of a woman. It was a man's voice, but seemed to smooth to belong to Haymitch. "My," the voice went on, "You sound so grown up. How old are you?"

"I'm 4. Who is this? Where is Mommy?" To her credit, Maysilee sounded suspicious. She was his daughter, after all.

"I'm a friend of your mom's. I knew you when you were a baby."

"Okay," Maysilee, for her part, was unimpressed. "Can I please talk to my mommy now?"

"You are his daughter aren't you?" Gale heard the voice comment before there was a silence. Maysilee looked to him, uncomfortable. He nodded to her, trying to indicate that it was alright. He knew who the voice belonged to. What exactly Serger was doing in their living compartment at 5:00 in the morning was what he wanted to know.

"Maysilee?" It was Madge, her voice flooded with a mix of emotion that Gale could dissect as surprise, relief, and sadness. "What is it baby, are you okay, is something wrong?" Now there was anxiety and fear mixed in as well. Maybe Madge would understand where Gale was coming from after all.

"No Mommy, I'm fine." Maysilee smiled the biggest smile Gale had seen in a while.

"Is Daddy taking good care of you?"

"Yeah Mommy. He's doing his best," Gale couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sometimes Maysilee sounded too much like an adult.

"Does he know you're on the phone right now?" It was Madge's turn to sound suspicious.

"Yes. He's right here. I want you to talk to him. He's very sad."

"… Sad?" Madge was taken aback. Gale could hear in her voice that this news was a surprise.

"Yes Mommy." Maysilee answered without missing a beat.

"Well," Madge's voice had a hint of a smile. "Why don't you put him on then?"

"First I wanted to say I miss you Mommy."

"I miss you too, sweetie. So much." Madge was crying. Gale felt farther from her than he imagined possible. When Madge was sad, when she cried, all he ever wanted to do was to hold her close, to protect her.

When Maysilee offered the phone towards him, it took Gale a minute to find the courage to reach for it. When it touched his hand, it seemed to burn. It seemed to carry impossible weight as he lifted it to his ear. He couldn't even speak, he could only breathe.

"Gale?" Madge's voice was tentative, unsure.

At the sound of her voice, so immediate, not distant like it had been when he listened in to Maysilee's conversation, it was like a floodgate had opened. His face flushed, and he took several gasping, shaky breaths, managing to find his voice as he choked, "Hey Madge."

His voice seemed to have the opposite effect on her. He couldn't even hear the intake of her breath on the other line, perhaps she was holding it.

"Look I'm- sorry I've been so… me… about this I'm just-," Gale faltered.

"Scared," Madge supplied.

Gale shook his head for several moments before his voice caught up, "No."

The silence between them resumed. Gale swallowed hard, fighting through the terror that someone would hear this. He had to tell her, or she wouldn't come back to him – that was the greater terror right now.

"Terrified." He breathed.

"What?" Madge's voice was small.

"I'm-," Gale choked on a sob that was caught in his throat. "I'm terrified of losing you!" He spat out. It didn't sound gentle, but it sounded true at least.

To his credit, Peeta intercepted Soleila in the door, and took Maysilee from the room to give Gale some privacy.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not afraid you'll go. I'm afraid someone will take you, and I won't be there-" Gale choked again, this time unable to stop the tears from reaching his eyes, or the sound of panic from reaching his voice. "I can't lose you, Madge. I can't."

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"How?"

"I just do, Gale."

Gale couldn't speak. Madge's assurance brought him not relief. She basically had to promise him that. What else could she say?

"I know because I love you Gale."

"That doesn't mean anything!" Gale snapped.

"Well, it means something to me."

Gale heard a click. She had hung up.

He had thought maybe being in his home District for a week would bring him some kind of comfort, but instead, he just felt empty.


End file.
